


Making the Best out of a Bad Situation

by VictoriaMasson



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha Derek Hale, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, COVID-19, Coronavirus, IDK what this is and I'm sorry lmao, M/M, Mutual Pining, Quarantine, Quarantined Together, Sharing a Bed
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-02
Updated: 2020-05-02
Packaged: 2021-03-01 23:53:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,703
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23961904
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VictoriaMasson/pseuds/VictoriaMasson
Summary: Please be aware that our beloved doorman, Joe, has been taken to the hospital tonight. He is currently being tested for COVID-19. We ask respectfully that everyone remain quarantined in their apartments for at least the next few hours until we receive the results. This includes any guests that might have come into contact with Joe upon entry. Thank you for your understanding.Stiles looked up to see Derek scowling at his phone. The sheriff took a moment to lean forward, respecting Derek’s space slightly more than his son, squinting to read the message from afar.“Welp. Get comfy son,” His dad leaned back when he was done reading, rubbing a hand down his face in exasperation, “Cause if that man’s test comes back positive, you might be stuck here for up to two weeks.” Derek’s head snapped up at that, his face a strange mixture of panicked and furious.Well fuck.Or -The one where Stiles and Derek may or may not get stuck quarantined together in Derek's apartment for an entire fortnight.
Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Comments: 5
Kudos: 58





	Making the Best out of a Bad Situation

“Joey, my man!” Stiles greeted happily as he approached the ever-surprising magnificence of Derek’s new apartment building, the doorman smiled kindly in return.

“Mr. Stilinski. Good to see you again.” Joe looked a little pale and sickly underneath his warm expression, but Stiles bit his tongue, not wanting to be rude. Though, just as he was staring, Joe let out a gnarly sounding cough.

Idly, Stiles was aware there was a pandemic going on – the situation with coronavirus was growing more serious by the day. However, living on top of a hellmouth and being a part of a crime-solving werewolf pack took up most of his attention. It was hard to be worried about getting sick when you were in the middle of trying to figure out how to hunt down and kill a terrifying man-eating Wendigo. Even though Stiles _was_ one of the few members of the pack actually able to contract the illness.

Joe looked at him sheepishly. “Apologies Mr. Stilinski, I’m feeling a bit under the weather today.”

“No apologies needed Joe, just… feel better yeah?” He clapped a hand on Joe’s shoulder and made his way to the elevators.

Derek had moved into his new apartment fairly recently. Once the pack all finished up getting their degrees, they’d all found their way back to Beacon Hills – settling into their disjointed careers but spending all their free time with each other (mostly fighting monsters but occasionally doing fun normal activities as well).

Derek had finally been ready to let go and sell the old Hale house and the surrounding land. It was bittersweet, but Derek had figured he needed a better living space if the pack was returning to town. Selling the land had left Derek with a pretty impressive savings account. Stiles had always assumed Derek was a modest sort of person, if his old loft and previous living arrangements were anything to go by.

However, once Lydia got involved, Derek found himself coerced into securing a penthouse suite apartment in the swankiest apartment building in town. The rest of the pack was pretty taken with the place as well, and though he would probably never admit it, Stiles caught Derek looking content there too. And honestly, what was not to like?

Stiles found himself at Derek’s new apartment multiple days a week in fact, getting to know all of the employees and greeting them kindly so they wouldn’t give Derek a hard time for the constant visits. Especially since those visits often occurred very late at night when an emergency of the supernatural variety called for him to come ASAP, no matter how late or inconvenient.

Stiles was also idly aware what it must have looked like to the employees of Beacon Towers. That Derek had a younger man almost only ever coming over at inappropriately late hours of the night. Stiles didn’t allow himself to dwell on that train of thought for too long though.

Stiles stepped into the elevator, nodding at the familiar attendant with ease, holding his huge stack of file folders filled with all of his latest research findings close to his chest.

“Mr. Stilinski, very nice to see you again.” The attendant had a twinkling in his eye and Stiles was _sure_ he was trying to imply something with that look.

“You too, Boris.” Stiles said simply, not wanting to invite further insinuation from the man.

He got off on the top floor, waving goodbye to Boris before making his way to Derek’s door. He assumed Derek would’ve heard him or caught his scent, so he didn’t bother knocking.

The second he pushed his way through the unlocked door, Derek’s head jerked up and his eyebrows furrowed in a particularly impressive display of utter disapproval.

“You smell weird.” Derek’s gruff tone accompanied his less-than-impressed expression and Stiles had to try hard not to give Derek a full-force bitch face.

“You know, some people say ‘hello’ when greeting each other. Or you could try ‘hi’, maybe ‘yo’ could be your thing. Try it out sometime. Do you catch my drift here?” Derek huffed once again but didn’t offer any further commentary.

Stiles ignored him and made his way to the elegant dining room table, large enough for the whole pack to fit during their pack dinner night every Sunday. Stiles loved to utilize the fine-crafted, long wooden table to lay out his research on when he came over to share his findings with Derek.

Derek made his way over as Stiles was finishing placing each of the more important documents at the front of each folder pile.

“What’d you find?” Stiles startled at the sound of Derek’s voice, which was way closer to him than usual. He looked to the side to see Derek subconsciously sniffing the air between them, his face twisting slightly at whatever the hell he was picking up from Stiles’ scent.

Stiles chose to ignore it.

“Just some reports from around the country. Unsolved cases that sound similar enough to ours that a Wendigo was almost definitely the culprit for each of them.” Derek hummed and picked up the file closest to him, flipping through the pages lazily before sighing.

“But if they were unsolved, how does this help us find the damn thing now?” Derek brushed a hand through his hair in frustration, moving away from the table to grab a drink from the kitchen.

“Well, obviously the killing stopped eventually in these cases. I’m trying to read between the lines here. Maybe something changed – maybe the thing moved on? I don’t know man, it’s hard to research a creature who doesn’t leave a single clue behind.” Stiles followed Derek to the kitchen, sitting on one of the high top chairs near the breakfast bar. Derek raised a can of seltzer in a silent question and Stiles just nodded.

“What does Scott think?” Derek continued and Stiles shrugged noncommittally.

“That he wants people to stop dying.” Derek rolled his eyes but didn’t prod any further. Scott was great at following through on the bite-y, claw-y, and kill-y part of hunting supernatural bad guys. As for the research… well, that came down primarily to Stiles. Occasionally Lydia, Peter, and Derek would lend a hand, but they all had their own talents on the field that Stiles, as their token human, did not.

Stiles rubbed his hands together nervously, the weight of the situation at hand taking its toll. Derek stiffened again and scrunched his nose at the action.

“Can you wash your hands or something? There’s something… not right.” Stiles narrowed his eyes bitchily at Derek before standing to do as he was asked. Stiles had grown accustomed to not questioning the sensitivities of the wolves in the pack – particularly their wicked, and often intrusive, sense of smell.

“Happy now, big guy?” Stiles waggled the still wet fingers of his freshly cleaned hands in Derek’s direction. He rolled his eyes at Stiles before his gaze snapped towards the door, his head tilting. It was obvious Derek was listening intently on something happening too far for Stiles’ human ears to pick up on. “What’s up?” Stiles asked quietly, as if not wanting to interfere with Derek’s eavesdropping.

“Something’s going on downstairs.” Derek turned on his heels and headed out his front door with preternatural speed. Stiles rushed to keep up.

They made it down to the first floor in time to see Joe, the doorman, being lifted onto a stretcher and brought into the ambulance clearly visible, parked right in front of the building.

“Oh man, poor Joe.” Stiles whispered to no one in particular. He could see in his periphery that Derek was still scrunching his nose at the unpleasant smell from before. Stiles wondered if perhaps he’d picked up on the smell of Joe’s sickness from when Stiles had clapped his hand on Joe’s shoulder as he entered the building. He was suddenly very grateful that Derek had made him wash his hands.

There were a few other tenants in the lobby watching with concern as Joe was taken away. A few minutes later the police showed up, wearing facemasks and gloves, like they’ve had to for the last few weeks of the pandemic. Stiles could see his dad entering the building and pulled Derek’s sleeve to encourage him to follow as he made his way over to him.

“Hey dad, what’s up?” The sheriff looked surprised to see him there, but it soon melted into a look of concern and frustration.

“What are you doing here Stiles? You really have a knack for being at the wrong place at the wrong time, don’t you?” His dad’s voice was muffled by the mask but Stiles could hear him clearly enough. Though he didn’t really understand the meaning of the words.

“I was just bringing Derek some of the research I finished up this morning, why? What’s going on?” Suddenly the phones of each of the tenants still standing in the lobby chirped at the exact same moment. Each phone’s distinct chirping sound echoed off the walls ominously in quick succession.

Derek pulled his own out of his pocket to see what must have been a mass text sent to everyone who lived in the building. Stiles leaned over into Derek’s personal space to read it alongside him:

**_Please be aware that our beloved doorman, Joe, has been taken to the hospital tonight. He is currently being tested for COVID-19. We ask respectfully that everyone remain quarantined in their apartments for at least the next few hours until we receive the results. This includes any guests that might have come into contact with Joe upon entry. Thank you for your understanding._ **

Stiles looked up to see Derek scowling at his phone. The sheriff took a moment to lean forward, respecting Derek’s space slightly more than his son, squinting to read the message from afar.

“Welp. Get comfy son,” His dad leaned back when he was done reading, rubbing a hand down his face in exasperation, “Cause if that man's test comes back positive, you might be stuck here for up to two weeks.” Derek’s head snapped up at that, his face a strange mixture of panicked and furious.

_Well fuck._

**Author's Note:**

>  **DISCLAIMER** : I absolutely am not trying to make light of the situation at hand nor am I trying to offend anyone by using this pandemic as a way to drive a plot for this story. I, myself, am having a difficult time right now and am trying to find solace by putting some of my favorite characters and pairings into a slightly more lighthearted version of our reality right now. Hopefully some of you may find happiness in it as well.


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